


arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Family Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also bokuto has a Very Big Crush on one akaashi keiji, bokuto's very hard on himself, bokuto-centric, lots of personal headcanons about alpha owl in this one, namely: bokuto's family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto Koutarou, contrary to popular belief, is the family disappointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to

**Author's Note:**

> okay i was supposed to get this monster out before school started but here i am at one in the morning crunching it out
> 
> also why no one told me it was bokuaka week?? arghhh
> 
> this is just full of personal headcanons about bokuto&family and maaaybe projecting a little about the insecurities and expectations?? but like, i've always wondered about this kid bc he's one of the top five, but he can't be happy-go-lucky all the time, he just can't. he's a third year, his "mood swings," they must come from something. 
> 
> ***tw for one slight mention of a panic attack somewhere in the middle. it's the 2nd gym scene where bokuto's all like "one more toss akaashi" and akaashi's like "hell no bro" (but not like that, obvs)

Bokuto Koutarou is, by anybody’s standards, far from a disappointment.

He consistently manages to pass exams with flying colours, is almost always surrounded by friends, has all the neighbourhood grannies fawning over him when he passes by, and is one of the top five volleyball aces in the country. Ask anyone that knows him and they’ll nod and say that he’s a pretty damn awesome guy. The only complaint would probably be about his contagious enthusiasm and infectious friendliness.

Bokuto Koutarou is definitely far from a disappointment... except, unfortunately, in the eyes of the Bokuto family.

Bokuto’s father is a successful accountant that can juggle numbers with an ease  circus clowns would be envious of. Bokuto’s mother is one of the most sought after professors at a prestigious university, who has more than one published book on the bestseller list. Having the wisdom and the power to do so, the couple has put effort into providing the best environment for their children to grow in, one where they can all become just as successful, if not more, than they themselves. The results are evident when one looks at the eldest Bokuto child, who has started his own law firm and is expecting a second child with his lovely wife, also from a distinguished family. The second child and only daughter of the family has recently graduated from med school and is quickly climbing the ranks as a capable doctor. Both are outstanding already, and all their guests are already impressed by the time they get to the third child.

 _If_ they get to the third child.

Bokuto Koutarou, contrary to popular belief, is the family disappointment.

He’s always been a bit louder, a bit rowdier, a little more curious, a little more energetic. As a child, Koutarou would run out the door with a war cry and disappear for a few hours doing who knows what, only to return home with scraped knees and bugs bites and muddy clothes and leaves in his hair. It was cute for a couple years, until one day his parents were called in because "Koutarou-kun needs to stop picking fights with the other kids over which Pokemon is better." His parents gave him the talk, and then another talk, and then one more talk for good measure. They encouraged him to find a hobby of some kind, hoping he would settle down and stay out of trouble, maybe even turn it into a career like his brother with debate club or his sister and her fascination with muscles and the nervous system. And Koutarou did try, and finally, he found a hobby.

Unfortunately, that hobby was volleyball.

"What do you even do in volleyball? Slap it to the floor? What's the point?"

"Isn't that a girl's sport?"

"Why not baseball, at least Japan's baseball has an international ranking."

"Can you tell me about any injuries you or your teammate has been through? It’d be even better if you could take pictures, I could use them for my report.”

Regardless of what his family says, Koutarou's passion for volleyball only grew. He managed to balance school, sports, and a social life, which was no easy feat for a middle schooler. Still, this kept him from running around stirring up trouble, so his family shrugged and carried on.

Bokuto Koutarou tried his hardest to make his family proud, despite his siblings' already impossibly high standards.

He stayed late after practice, slamming spike after spike to the ground, breathing hard and golden eyes sparking with deadly determination. He asked his senpais for help, doing drill after drill and receives after flying falls. He begged his friends to toss for him, despite them not even being in the club. He will do whatever it takes to become Japan's number ace, because if he's ever going to make his parents proud, he's gotta aim for the very best there ever was.

Ten years later, he’s the captain of Fukurodani Volleyball Club, has a group of good trusted friends, and even the occasional love letter in his shoe cubby. He’s still not the pride and joy of the Bokuto family, but he hasn’t given up yet.

 

**[]**

 

“Akaashi, Akaashi! Toss to me!”

The vice captain of their volleyball club sighs quietly, but obligingly grabs another ball for yet another toss. Meanwhile, Koutarou is bouncing on his feet right before the net. The ball goes up, up, up, and then-

_Bam!_

The ball slams onto the other side of the court with a satisfactory smack, and Konoha jumps to the side to avoid being hit with the ball. “Oi!” he yells. “We’re not targets!”

Koutarou turns to his setter, grinning wildly. “Did ya see that? Did ya see that, Akaashi? Wasn’t that amazing!”

Akaashi shrugs noncommittally. “Good hit, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou beams. If he had feathers like real owls do, they would be all puffed up. His good mood persists even after the coach calls for clean-up, and the whole team breathes a quiet sigh of relief that their captain isn’t going to throw another tantrum today, or worse, sulk in the corner with that little pout of his. There’s nothing more tragic than when your captain is down and you can’t do a thing about it.

“Hey, Akaashi, heard something good happened today, huh?” Komi nudges the second year with a wide grin.

Koutarou looks up. “Huh? What is it? Is it your birthday? But wait, it’s not even winter yet---”

“It’s nothing,” Akaashi says quickly, but is cut off when Konoha interjects from across the changeroom.

“Our precious little setter here got confessed to today~!”

The whole team _oohs_ and a few even goes to clap Akaashi on the back. Koutarou blinks at his setter, quiet. For some reason, he’s suddenly seeing his friend in a whole new light. It’s not like he thought Akaashi wouldn’t get confessions on a regular basis, because well, Akaashi’s awesome. He’s smart, has manners, knows how to make the best jokes with the most deadpan face, is considerate, is responsible, is quick to memorize good strategies, doesn’t let you get away with putting yourself down, and can make the best tosses on this side of Tokyo. _And_ he’s pretty as heck. The second year setter has never mentioned any girl or any confessions even though, now that Koutarou really thinks about it, he’s certain he’s seen Akaashi’s female classmates giggle and glance over when he goes to find the second year in his classroom, or when they go shopping for sports equipment and more than a few girls have eyed the pretty setter not-so-subtly. Koutarou can’t blame them, Akaashi really _is_ pretty and practically perfect in any way. Of course people would confess to him. Koutarou doesn’t know why the thought is just hitting him now that Akaashi would even _want_ to date someone.

He’s still thinking silently to himself why there’s such a weird squirmy feeling right above his ribcage when they’re walking home together. He can’t figure out what it is, but it isn’t annoyance, or anger, or even sadness. It’s not like he isn’t happy for his friend, of course he is, what kind of friend would he be if he isn’t. He’s just wondering why the fact that Akaashi got a girlfriend bothered him so much when said boy repeats his name in an exasperated tone.

“Bokuto-san.”

“Huh?” He turns to look at Akaashi. “Sorry, I was spacing out. What did you say?”

Akaashi glances at him sideways. “I asked why you were spacing out. You’re uncharacteristically quiet. Is something wrong?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just, you know, thinking, uh, what we should do to celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” There’s a tiny scrunch between Akaashi’s eyebrows, a sign that he’s not following Koutarou’s train of thought. This happens a lot, but not as much as when they first met. Koutarou’s really lucky to have himself such an intelligent setter.

Well, not that he has Akaashi to himself. That would be nice, because Akaashi is the best person Koutarou has ever met, ranking right up there with Kuroo Tetsurou and probably that national volleyball player that showed up at some important dinner his parents took him to when he was small. But Akaashi is the whole team’s, and that’s that.

“Yeah! Celebrate you!”

“... For what?”

“For getting a girlfriend! I’m so proud of you, it seems like just yesterday when you were a tiny baby first year... But that’s great! Though you have to make sure you still come to practice and toss for me! Because your tosses are the best! But I’m happy for you, really, what’s her name, she must be really pretty----” Koutarou doesn’t know why he’s rambling on, but he can’t seem to stop.

“Bokuto-san.”

He stops, glancing out the corner of his eye at Akaashi.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Koutarou’s jaw drops. “But? In the changeroom, Konoha said you got confessed to!”

“I did.” Akaashi continues to look forwards, his expression calm once more. “But I turned her down.”

“How come?” Koutarou is shocked that he’d reject a perfectly good confession, but also the tiniest bit relieved, which he definitely feels guilty about, but at least it means more tosses from Akaashi.

“Because I don’t return her feelings.”

“But---you won’t know unless you go out with---”

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi turns to look at him, his eyes serious and dark as always. Koutarou can feel himself go still and quiet before those eyes, like he always seems to when he stares back fully. “I’m flattered you care about your kouhai’s relationship and all but I’ve made my decision. It’s not fair to her if I lead her on when I don’t have the intention of falling in love with her.” He looks forwards again, brushing a lock of his dark hair behind his ear. “Besides, I have school and volleyball to invest my time on. You’d be sad if I can’t toss to you anymore, wouldn’t you?”

Koutarou laughs. “I would!” He reaches out to ruffle Akaashi’s hair. The squirmy feeling in his chest gets a little quieter, but still remains softly tugging. He ignores it, instead, just feeling happy that his setter----he means, the team’s setter----is still going to be around to keep tossing to him.

 

**[]**

 

Koutarou jerks awake when his face slams into his open textbook.

He rubs his eyes, turning his head slightly to glance at his alarm clock. The digital numbers read just past two am. He glances back at his desk, swamped with textbooks and notebooks. He’s nowhere near finished. At this point, he wonders if he’ll ever finish.

Rolling the crick out of his neck, Koutarou shakes the sleep out of his fingers and his mind. He needs to cover at least another two chapters before he goes to sleep for real. It’s not like it’s hard, it’s just that his mind is better with numbers than with roman letters and grammar. But this is his worst subject and it’s been dragging his grades down, which is definitely going to show on his next report card. Which would be terrible and if his parents saw it, it’d be the end of the _world._ With volleyball taking up most of his time, his homework has been forced to take a backseat. It’s good that most of his classes he can make up by cramming the night before a test and passing it with flying colours, but the homework participation marks he can’t work around.

He yawns, and then growls when his pencil leaves a shaky line trailing off to the side. Searching for his eraser, he flips notebooks and lifts papers across his desk. Instead of finding the eraser, he finds his phone, which is blinking a soft green light at him. A message.

_[From: Akaashi °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°]_   
_[Received 12:26 am]_   
_Bokuto-san, please remember to go to sleep earlier tonight. We can’t have our captain constantly yawning in morning practice. It’s a bad example._

He can feel himself smile at the message. Of course Akaashi would notice and scold him about it. He can just picture the second year sitting on his bed, a serious frown on his face, as he taps out the message to him. Koutarou makes a mental note to buy his favourite kouhai an extra melonpan tomorrow. He deserves all the melonpans in the world.

Koutarou puts his phone away, but sighs when he sees the amount of work he still has to do. He whispers a soft apology to Akaashi, and then throws himself back into studying.

 

**[]**

 

“One more toss, Akaashi!”

Koutarou runs up, feeling sweat from the last two hours sliding down his shirt. He pays it no mind, his eyes set on the ball hanging in the air, and his arms comes up, behind, and _smack!_ as he slams the ball down. He lands, knees bent, but stumbles slightly. He steadies himself quickly, taking in a quick breath before turning back to Akaashi.

“Again!”

“Bokuto-san, do you need a break?”

They are the only two left in the gym by now, practice having already ended half an hour ago. The gym is quieter, and seemingly larger than before, but Koutarou kind of likes the feeling this gives, as if he and Akaashi are the only two left in the whole world. He likes it best when he’s with Akaashi, after all.

“No, I’m fine!” He shoots a thumbs up at the other boy, bouncing on his feet as if to further prove how fine he is. “Again, Akaashi!”

The setter stares at him for a moment, but picks up another ball. He tosses, right up high like Koutarou likes it, almost an instinct now.

Koutarou runs, soaring into the air like he’s a bird. His palm stings when it makes contact, but he’s used to it. It feels good, like cold air against hot cheeks. He lands, but again, his feet takes a second longer to steady his body weight. He wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“Bokuto-san. I think we should take a break.” Akaashi’s voice is firm this time, and even Koutarou can see the concern in those dark eyes now.

He sighs. “Okay.” Meekly, he follows the younger boy to the benches, and accepts the water bottle offered to him. He chugs half the bottle in one gulp, feeling the coolness go down while the rest of his body burns as the adrenaline leaves him. Before, he felt like he could fly, but now, he only feels like he wants to lie down and maybe take a nap until next Interhigh.

“Bokuto-san. Are you feeling alright?” Akaashi’s soft voice jerks Koutarou’s eyes to the left. The setter’s wearing a small frown now, peering up at him. For a moment, Koutarou is struck mute by those familiar dark eyes.

“Y-yeah! Fine and dandy! Never been better!”

“Your face is all red, Bokuto-san. You look tired.”

“Well, I did have three tests today, huh...”

Akaashi’s look of disapproval is instant. “You stayed up all night cramming again, didn’t you.”

“Well... Maybe only a little?”

Akaashi sighs. “Bokuto-san. It’s not good for your body if you don’t sleep.”

“But I’m an owl! Owls are nocturnal creatures!”

“You are not an owl, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou pouts. “I wish I was, sometimes.” He looks down, suddenly quiet at how true that statement rings.

Akaashi doesn’t miss it. Dark eyes study him for a moment before he asks, “Why?”

“Because... then I can just fly away from my problems. I wouldn’t have to deal with---all the pressure of---because the only thing that would be expected of me would be survival.” Koutarou sucks in a breath, realizing his tone has taken a bitter turn. “Besides, great-horned owls are so cool! I wish I could hibernate when it gets cold!”

Akaashi stays quiet, watching him closely, while Koutarou grins and pretends his heart isn’t pounding because a) he hadn’t meant to admit anything that would burden his friend like that, and b) Akaashi’s gaze has always stirred something in him but lately it’s been getting ridiculous.

“... Great-horned owls don’t hibernate,” says Akaashi finally. He glances at the clock. “Why don’t we head home for today? You should get some rest.”

Koutarou shrugs. He feels better playing volleyball, able to focus on just the ball and court and nothing else, but even he has to admit that his body can’t keep up under its exhaustion. He grabs his stuff, reaching out to ruffle Akaashi’s curly hair. “Let me treat you to something when we pass by the konbini, okay! Because you’re the only kouhai that always stay behind for extra practice with me!”

“That’s because you’ve never asked anyone else,” remarks Akaashi. But his lips are turned up in that slight way of his, that tells his amusement. Koutarou responds with his own smile.

 

**[]**

 

“Bokuto-san, what are you doing?”

Koutarou pauses in wallowing in misery and lifts his head up from his desk. Akaashi is standing in the doorway of his classroom, a rare sight since it’s usually Koutarou that ventures down to the second year classroom.

“Akaashi!” He jumps up to run over. Before Akaashi can duck away, Koutarou’s got his arms around him, and he hugs him tightly. “How are you!”

“... I literally saw you four hours ago at lunch, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi taps his arm until he can breathe again. “I thought we were going to go check out that new volleyball store today.”

“Yeah!” Koutarou beams, but then he remembers. He deflates. “I can’t. Sorry, Akaashi, you should go without me.”

Akaashi tilts his head. “What happened?”

Koutarou sighs, slouching down even further. “Sensei says if I don’t hand in the English homework by the end of the week, I won’t be able to raise the mark. Which means I’ll _fail_ and that means I’ll _die_ and I can’t die yet, Akaashi! I’ve still got the world to see, people to meet! Owls to pet and volleyball to play and your tosses to hit!”

“I thought you aced your test last week, Bokuto-san.”

“I did, but that’s just a test. A test is no problem if you cram before it, but homework---I can’t do it!”

Akaashi stares as Koutarou grabs his head and nearly messes up his hairdo. “If it’s English, I can probably help.”

“Eh? You can?!”

Akaashi shrugs. “I have cousins in Toronto, and we visit sometimes.”

“What?! Does that mean you’ve been to Disney World?! Is it fun? Is it cooler than our Disney!”

“No, Toronto’s in Canada, Bokuto-san,” replies Akaashi, amused.

“Oh.” Koutarou scratches his neck, frowning. “See, I’m dumb like that.”

“No, you’re not. Toronto and Orlando sound similar, lots of people would make the same mistake.”

Koutarou smiles at his friend. “Thanks, Akaashi. But, you can help me? Is it too much trouble?”

“No. We can start today, if you’d like.”

“Yes!”

They decide to head over to Koutarou’s place, since it was closer and there’s a train station nearby so Akaashi can return home safely. They fall in step with each other as easily as breathing, and Koutarou’s already forgotten about his previous devastated mood. He’s so thankful that he met Akaashi; there’s something about the other boy that makes him feel calmer than usual, like maybe he _can_ handle everything this world is throwing at him, and maybe he isn’t going to screw everything up after all. He’s so lucky he has someone like Akaashi in his life.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to my house before!” Koutarou kicks off his shoes, gesturing for Akaashi to do the same. He places both pairs neatly by the doorway, before leading Akaashi into the house.

“Pardon the intrusion,” murmurs the second year as he follows Koutarou down the hallway. “Is your family home?”

“Ah, no, my parents usually work late. Do you, uh, want something to drink, or...?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Koutarou nods, disliking the strange politeness that’s settled between them. He leads Akaashi up the stairs, throwing open his door with a flourish. “Welcome to my room---or, should I say, my nest!”

Akaashi hums appreciatively, and they settle down on the little table in the centre of Koutarou’s room. Koutarou is still buzzing with the excitement of having Akaashi over (in his room!) but as soon as Akaashi lays out the textbooks and notes in front of him, his familiar voice calmly going over the meaning of idioms, he’s instantly anchored down. He even manages to answer a few questions right. Despite Akaashi being a year younger, he manages to explain the rules of grammar in a much more efficient and clear way than Koutarou’s sensei ever did.

Akaashi is leaning over to check his answers when Koutarou turns his head and for a moment, his head just goes. Silent. Like it only rarely does when Koutarou is either a) tired out of his fucking mind, b) smacked in the face with a volleyball a little too hard, c) too frustrated after a “What have you been doing to yourself, son?” talk with his parents, or d) he’s completely focused on something (usually volleyball) and his mind has no room for any distractions or worries.

Akaashi has long lashes. Koutarou’s never noticed before. His dark eyes scan the page with ease, his face tilted down, and his eyelashes cast shadows on his pale cheeks. They look soft, but elegant, something like a painting, except Koutarou doesn’t know anything about paintings. He only knows about porcelain skin that blushes when praised about good tosses, long lashes that flutter when blinking tiredly after practice, slight quirk of soft-looking lips when Koutarou lands a good spike. He knows that Akaashi’s face is really close and he’s stared at this same face for the past two years but somehow he feels like he can stare at Akaashi forever. Which, if his mind wasn’t dead silent and empty of anything but _holy shit he’s so pretty holy shit he’s so pretty holy sh-_ he’d probably think he’s finally lost it.

But Akaashi finishes checking the page, nods, and looks back up at him. “Good,” he says, handing back the notebook to Koutarou. “You’ve only got three more worksheets to go.”

Koutarou glances away, forcing his mind to focus back on the english letters before him. “Right. Yes! I’m almost there! Thanks a lot, Akaashi, you’re like an angel with no wings.”

Akaashi squints at him. “Thanks, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou’s mother arrives home just as Akaashi is leaving. He bows and pardons himself, and Koutarou watches as his mother immediately falls under the younger boy’s natural charm. He doesn’t blame her, lesser people than her have fallen. Akaashi probably doesn’t even know the effect he has on people.

Koutarou is so preoccupied with trying to figure out what his heart is doing at the thought of his setter that he doesn’t even flinch when his mother makes a passing comment on how Koutarou should try and learn from his friend, look at the manners on that boy and “none of that ridiculous hair you and your other friends seem to like so much.” He drifts back up to his room, and plops down on his bed, staring at the space Akaashi was occupying, contemplating with a quiet that the Fukurodani Volleyball Club would never believe he could possess.

It isn’t until after a dinner that’s as terse and not-so-subtle questions as usual (though this time Koutarou hardly remembers to feel bad about it) and some awkward googling that he comes to a shocking discovery.

He has a _crush_. On his _setter._

He’s fucked.

 

**[]**

 

Bokuto Koutarou is not necessarily everyone’s favourite, but he was definitely far from anybody’s least favourite.

His classmates knew him as the class clown, the loud one that would startle from a nap when the teacher called on him suddenly, the one that would manage to drop a one-liner in the middle of class like he didn’t mean it, and end up causing the whole class, even the teacher, to burst into giggles. His teammates knew him as the unpredictable but definitely reliable captain, the moody one that can switch modes at the drop of a hat, the one that would volunteer to buy everybody popsicles from the konbini after a long practice. His friends knew him as the cheerful one, the one that would go out of his way to make conversation, the one that is loyal to a fault, the one that would stick up for you in a fight or help you defeat the terrifying calculus monster despite his own piles of essays to do.

Bokuto Koutarou is not necessarily everyone’s go-to person, but he’s definitely someone you’d be proud to have on your side.

However, at this moment, Bokuto Koutarou himself is nowhere near proud to have himself on his _own_ side.

Not only is he not doing well in several of his classes, not only is he not making it onto the top of any school list, not only is he sporting a ridiculous hairstyle that always manages to get a disapproving stare from the grannies at the supermarket, not only is he too rambunctious and too focused on that volleyball of his, not only is he _still_  the wild baby of the family that never seemed to grow out of the over-excited phase, Bokuto Koutarou is in love with a boy.

That’s right, the absolute jock Bokuto Koutarou, the ball-is-life Bokuto Koutarou, the alpha-owl Bokuto Koutarou has feelings for his very male teammate. It’s not even a passing phase, he knows, because he catches himself thinking about Akaashi _all the time,_ during practice, during class, during his shower. He finds himself impulsively grabbing owl keychains or tiny hair clips from the rack when he goes shopping just because he thinks Akaashi might like them. He wonders what it’s like to fall asleep and wake up next to him. And it’s not even like he wants to bone him-gods that sounds wrong even just in theory-it’s not even like he’s lusting after Akaashi, because sure he definitely appreciates the other boy’s appearance and the way his arm muscles tense when he sets the ball, like _wow_ , but it’s not like that. Koutarou just wants to spend more time with Akaashi, listen to that calm voice of his, play volleyball with him forever. He wants to hold hands, maybe, or be able to reach out and run his hands through that curly head of his. He wants to touch Akaashi in the most innocent way possible.

He sits at his desk, heaving silently and staring unseeingly at his dimming laptop screen. The roaring in his ears plays as a backdrop to his whirling thoughts as he realizes that he will always, always be the family disappointment, because he’s not going to be number one in anything, he can’t manage to become a lawyer or a doctor, he will never become successful enough to gain that approving nod from his parents. He will never be able to give them any semblance of a normal, successful child, because he won’t even be able to give them _grandchildren_. Not only is he never going to catch up to his outstanding siblings, he will never be able to get married, let alone have kids.

Koutarou puts his face in his hands, breathing deeply. He’d landed wrong on his feet during volleyball before, he’d been nearly involved in a terrible car accident before, he’d even stayed the whole way through one of Konoha’s horror movie marathons before, but this is the first time he’s ever felt so terrified.

Bokuto Koutarou isn’t only the family disappointment, because apparently he has to go and have feelings _for a_ _boy._

 

**[]**

 

Koutarou yawns, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall instead. He shakes his head, trying to clear it before he takes his seat for the test today.

“Bokuto-san.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “A-Akaashi! H-How are you!”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “I’m fine. You look terrible, though.”

“Ah, yeah...” Koutarou scratches his cheek. “Was cramming last night.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?” The concern in Akaashi’s dark eyes is obvious. Koutarou blanks for a few seconds, before he remembers that the younger boy is waiting for a reply and he shouldn’t make a bigger fool of himself than he has already. Akaashi hasn’t said anything about Koutarou’s slightly strange behaviour the last few days, and Koutarou has almost managed to go back to normal. Because that’s what he wants. Normal. Akaashi deserves that much.

“Y-yeah! Like, uh, three hours?”

The disapproval is clear on the second-year’s face. “Bokuto-san, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know, it’s just, I had a test today...”

“Are you going to be alright for the practice match tomorrow?”

Koutarou blinks. He’s nearly forgotten about the match. He nods furiously. “I will! Don’t worry, Akaashi, I won’t let you down!”

Akaashi stares at him for a moment. “Alright,” he says finally. “The team is counting on you.” He bows slightly, departing with a small wave. But before he turns the corner, he sends Koutarou a tiny smile.

Koutarou aces the test.

 

**[]**

 

“Bokuto-san. I think we should stop for today.”

Koutarou gulps in air, hands on his knees. “No! I-I can still---another---I’ve gotta---”

“You look like you’re on the verge of collapsing, Bokuto-san.”

“No, you don’t understand---I need---one more---”

“I’m not going to let you injure yourself---”

“I won’t, I need---please, just--- _Akaashi_ \---”

Akaashi shakes his head, resolute. “We’ve already gone overtime. And you’re barely standing. No more tosses, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou’s shaking his head back and forth, eyes closed, breaths still coming ragged. “No. I can’t, I have to---” He keeps muttering, staggering forward towards the net again, his heart thumping wildly and his hands clenching and unclenching. This is terrible, he hasn’t managed to land any hit like he wants to for the past two hours and they lost the match last week, they _lost_ , it was _his_ fault no matter what the team said, he---

“Koutarou.”

Koutarou shuts up. He looks at his setter, eyes wide, mouth still open.

Akaashi steps closer, carefully, as if approaching a wild animal. “What’s wrong?”

Koutarou shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to practice more, let’s----”

“No, Bokuto. What’s going on? You’re not usually like this, you’re---”

“ _I’m not good enough!_ ”

Both of them are shocked into silence at the sudden outburst. Then, as if a dam breaks, Koutarou drops to the ground, heaving harsh breaths, staring at the ground with wide eyes.

It’s too loud in his head.

It’s too much.

His chest hurts.

He can’t breathe.

Dimly, he can feel the other boy kneel down next to him, and cautiously, gently, there’s a hand on his shoulder, and a soft voice telling him to “Breathe, Koutarou, slowly.”

It takes a few minutes, or hours, who knows, before Koutarou can feel the air in his lungs again, before the world stops feeling like it’s caving in and he’s conscious he’s sitting on the gymnasium floor, before he is aware of Akaashi sitting patiently next to him, a hand running soothing trails down his back.

“Hey,” he says softly, dark eyes on him reassuring him wordlessly. Like an anchor. “You okay?”

Koutarou closes his eyes briefly. He nods. “Sorry,” he croaks, barely wincing when his voice breaks.

“Don’t be. Do you want to talk about it?”

Koutarou stares at the ground. He shakes his head. “I’m fine now, honest.” He grins weakly at the other boy. “You’re right. I’m too tired today. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Akaashi stares at him, his expression unreadable. But he lets it go. The setter stands, holding out a hand to help his captain up. “Let’s go home, Bokuto-san.”

If Koutarou walks a bit closer to the other boy’s side on the way home, just a few centimetres shy of touching, they don’t comment on it. If Koutarou only manages to dredge up his usual chattering of mundane things halfway through their walk, they don’t say anything about it. If when they part ways at the station and they both linger a bit longer than they usually do, knocking their shoulders together and confirming about tomorrow’s plans, they don’t acknowledge that either.

Only when Koutarou is safely tucked into his bed that night, after another cold dinner inside his own room, does he realize that Akaashi had called him by his first name.

 

**[]**

 

Koutarou slams the door on his way out, not even flinching at the chilly night air despite only having a thin t-shirt and jeans. He swipes quickly at his eyes, turning down the street of his house and just walking. Away. Away from this place and all its little fake potted plants and perfect lawns and impossible expectations and high demands and “Why don’t you think about your future more” and “You should stop fooling around with that team of yours” and all the secrets he’s been keeping and the insecurities and things he wishes he had the courage to say back to his parents when they start in on him.

He’s at least three blocks away when he decides he’d rather not catch a cold right before Interhigh. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. He sends out a quick text before he can think it through.

_[To: Akaashi °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°]_   
_[Sent 10:48 pm]_  
_hey sry can i come over right now_

He’s just starting to regret it when he receives a reply right away.

_[From: Akaashi °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°]_   
_[Received 10:49 pm]_   
_Yes, you can, but are you alright, Bokuto-san? You sound off_

He smiles at the concern emitting from the text, can even picture the tiny frown on Akaashi’s face. He sends back an affirmation and a quick, _dont worry ur pretty little head!!_ and then he’s walking as fast as he can towards the setter’s house.

He knocks on the door, a bit nervous now that he’s arrived. What if Akaashi fell asleep already? What if _his parents_ answer the door? It’s late, and on a school night, too. Maybe he should just leave, he’ll be a bother----

“Bokuto-san.” Familiar calm expression and serious voice greets him, and he nearly melts onto the ground right there.

“Akaashi. Sorry, to bother you so late, I just---”

The other boy shakes his head. He ushers him in, closing the door behind him. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s go to my room.”

Koutarou greets Akaashi’s parents, who are sitting on the couch watching some sort of drama. They wave at him, having seen him around many times. They step into Akaashi’s room without saying a word, and Akaashi watches him settling onto the floor beside the bed before breaking the silence.

“What happened?”

Koutarou bites his lip, staring at the comforter. It has tiny owls on it, causing him to smile just a little. It fades away rather quickly, and he sighs. He glances up, to find dark eyes studying him patiently. All of a sudden, he feels his throat drying up. He swallows.

“I’m. I, uh.” He hunches down. “Do you think I’m a good captain.” His voice trails down at the end, and he nearly cringes at the sound of his own self pity.

“Yes,” is the answer, without hesitation. Koutarou looks up again. Akaashi continues. “You’re not perfect, of course, you’re loud, your hair is strange, you come up with a lot of crazy ideas, but you’re also very considerate, you’re good at leading the team, and you’ve got lots of faith. You’re an amazing captain, and the rest of the team would agree with me, I’m sure.”

“But I’m annoying, aren’t I? With the moods?”

Akaashi tilts his head. “Not entirely. Why?”

Koutarou shakes his head. “You don’t have to be nice, Akaashi. I know I’m disappointing.”

“You’re not a disappointment,” says Akaashi sharply. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Koutarou doesn’t raise his head. He bites his lips harder, but even his rapid blinking can’t hide the wetness starting to gather at the corner of his eyes. He feels the other boy stand up suddenly, and he closes his eyes. Akaashi’s going to leave now, and he’ll have no one, which is just as well because he sucks and he doesn’t deserve anyon---

“Koutarou.”

Akaashi is sitting beside him, close enough that their knees are touching. His eyes stare into Koutarou’s steadily, unwaveringly, and he reaches out to wipe away a tear, so gently Koutarou feels his eyes leak more.

“Talk to me,” the second year says quietly.

And Koutarou does.

He tells him of the heavy expectations he seems to have set on himself, of his grades, his future plans, his volleyball. How his parents keep asking him when he’s going to start being serious about his post-secondary plans, because look at his brother and his new law firm and his family, look at his sister and the name she’s making for herself in the medicine world. How he wishes he could look his parents in the eye and tell them that volleyball makes him happy and he doesn’t want to become an accountant like his father, how he wants to tell them that he’s actually not dumb he just isn’t able to pay attention in certain classes. How he is so worried of failing and losing because he never felt like he’s good at anything, not the way his family is or they want him to be. How he knows he shouldn’t push himself more than necessary, but he wants to, _needs to_ train harder because he can’t just settle for being one of the “top five aces of the nation,” do you know how they say he’s “barely” in the top three? How can he ever become number one and make his parents proud if he’s only “barely” up there on that list? He tells Akaashi that he’s so scared of falling behind and not being good enough, because his whole life he’s felt not good enough, and no one would believe him because he’s Bokuto Koutarou, look at his family, what an amazing family, surely he’ll bring pride and joy to his household one day too, when he settles down eventually. And that’s the thing, what if he never settles? What if he doesn’t know how, and people will always think of him as that guy with the funny hair and the carefree smile, the one that’s always a good laugh to have around but will never amount to anything good?

He spills all his worries and insecurities and his deep dark secrets and Akaashi listens. He keeps talking until his voice grows hoarse and the house grows quiet. He’s never felt more safe and the weight that’s been sitting on his chest since how many months ago seems to have lightened, just a little bit.

He pauses, having almost ran out of everything that’s been buzzing around in his mind a little too long and a little too loudly. He looks at Akaashi, who’s still watching him quietly, nodding at everything like they’re important and worth listening to and not just whiny complaints. He takes a deep breath.

“And, I’m completely a mess and I know it’s not fair to you and I promise that I’ll make sure it’ll go away but I like you, as in more than a senpai-kouhai way, more than a teammate way, more than a friend way, I like you and I’m sorry but I don’t think I can hold it in anymore.”

There’s a short silence while Koutarou fixes his gaze on his feet instead of on the other boy’s face. He’s about to excuse himself so he can leave and beat himself up over grossing out the only person he’s trusted his entire life to, when Akaashi speaks up.

“Thank you for telling me, Bokuto-san.” A hand brushes his, and then slender fingers grab hold of his own, and then they’re holding hands. It’s nice, nicer than Koutarou has ever imagined, and he feels his mind quiet down for the first time in a long time.

Then Akaashi starts talking, and he listens.

He listens to Akaashi telling him it’s okay to feel overwhelmed, you’re in your third year, of course there’s all this pressure about the future, and it’s scary, it’s confusing, but you don’t have to take it all on your own. Your parents are hard on you but they just want the best for you, and it’s okay if you can’t manage to tell them the truth just yet, but you will, one day you will, I believe in you. And the team really does think you’re a great captain, look how much the first years look up to you, look at all the crowds that come cheer for us at the games, they love you, and you’re never useless, not even in your dejected mode, though that is a bit offputting at first. Akaashi rubs circles on his knuckles with his thumb, and Koutarou listens as he tells him that even if he falls from the top five of the country, he’d still follow his captain anywhere. You’re incredible, you know, when you slam that spike down and how you take on each challenge like nothing’s going to bring you down, how brave you are to face all of that with such a smile. Akaashi tells him, _you’re going to be the best ace this country has ever seen,_ and Koutarou almost feels like crying.

Akaashi reaches up again to wipe the tears that Koutarou hasn’t even noticed on his face, and he says, “I like you too, it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay,” and he believes him.

 

**[]**

 

They make it to the finals at Interhigh, but they lose in the last round.

Koutarou doesn’t fall apart, but he does cry a little. He shakes hands with the other team, smiling wide and congratulating them sincerely. His team dogpiles him, and they spend an embarrassing two minutes sobbing all over each other and hugging it out. They blubber a bit more when they bow to the crowd that came to support them, and in the changeroom there’s more than a few declarations of profound platonic love for this team, these couple of years spent within the presence of smelly lockers and volleyballs to the face and bad owl puns. Koutarou wouldn’t have it any other way.

When they shuffle out of the changeroom, already joking about who’s treating them all to yakiniku, Akaashi pulls Koutarou aside. They stop just around the corner, and Koutarou leans into the smaller boy’s embrace wordlessly. They don’t talk much, but it’s okay. They both agree the game was very good, worthy of being the last one they play as captain and vice captain of the Fukurodani Volleyball team. When they finally release each other, Akaashi is gracious enough not to mention the damp spots left on his jacket.

They walk back together, and Akaashi holds his hand. His heart is finally slowing down and his bones have started sinking in tiredness when he spots them.

Akaashi looks at him. “I’ll be right here,” he says softly, touching his elbow just enough so Koutarou can feel his reassuring warmth.

He smiles down at the other boy, a bit crookedly, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He knows Akaashi will never think of him as anything less than he is, and he’s forever grateful for that. He’s still learning to think of himself that way, but that’s okay. Akaashi will be there to teach him.

He nods, and then faces forwards again. He takes a step, keeping his head up. He meets their expectant gazes with a smile.

“Mom. Dad. How was the game?”

**Author's Note:**

> bokuto koutarou is just a taller, more hair-gelled version of hinata, ok  
> they're both volleydorks and would 100% drag everyone into volleyhell with them
> 
> also like, it's not relevant anymore bc i suck and can't seem to write everything i wanted to but my headcanon here is that bokuto is either ace (haha pun intended) or demisexual?? but like homoromantic. and akaashi was supposed to spill that he was pansexual but instead that part got all jumbled up and never mind. maybe next time.
> 
> also this was supposed to have a heck of a lot more owl puns but instead it just got way too serious and way too angsty ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> alSO (shamelessly promotes) FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER/TUMBLR @puddingcatbae OTHERWISE YOU'RE MISSING OUT ON ALL THE MISERABLE ADVENTURES I HAVE AS A FIRST YEAR UNI STUDENT MWAHAHA


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